


don't tell me it's real

by be_gentle



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake Dating, Jealous Kylo Ren, Reality TV, Rey puts up with the sexism of a dating show
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24672850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/be_gentle/pseuds/be_gentle
Summary: When Rey Niima’s job can no longer sponsor her visa, she’s desperate enough to enter the world of The Force, a hit reality TV show that promises a lifetime of happiness. Rey isn’t concerned with happiness so much as a husband or, rather, a marriage that would guarantee her staying in the U.S. She loves her job. She’ll do whatever it takes, even ignoring a certain chemistry with the executive producer, Kylo Ren.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 5
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It was all horrid timing. The application. The interviews. Every single bloody line she had to feed the camera, always with an inane wink or smile.

They were shooting scripted promos for their upcoming season of  _ The Force _ . 

“Put down that doughnut! Rey, who gave you that? Whoever gave you that is  _ not _ your friend. Don’t you know the camera already adds ten pounds, what are you  _ doing _ looking for another ten to add?”

A young-looking PA snatched the doughnut straight from Rey’s mouth and disappeared behind the blinding lights. Lights that, by the way, burned like hot oil from a frying pan. She found herself constantly being blotted by some make-up artist on stand by. Swatches of paper patted against her forehead. Brushes on her face. Pin after pin in her hair. It was an army of hands that appeared with aggression, then left until further notice. Until their pretty doll had to be made pretty again.

It was all very bad timing.

Rey hadn’t eaten all night and that doughnut was her last chance to stop her stomach from announcing its emptiness on camera. They were asking her all sorts of questions she didn’t want to answer--at three a.m., no less.

_ What’s your favorite sex position? What are your opinions on foreskin--circumcised or uncircumcised, what’s your preference? You graduated with a degree in environmental engineering, but do you know how to have  _ fun _? _

No one had even bothered to pour damned coffee down her throat. How was she supposed to function when her mind was on the abandoned pillows a mere dozen yards away?

“Rey! Stop biting your lip! Make up! MAKE UP! Where’s Rose? Get me Rose or that girl is fired!”

She took that moment of distraction to dart around the lights to the craft service table. It was difficult to navigate the perfectly flat, smooth ground in her four inch heels when she felt like a newly born gazelle. But she didn’t let it stop her. She swiped two mini quiches and shoved them into her mouth, then teetered onto the coffee station where she poured herself a medium roast and drank it like a shot of tequila. 

“REY!”

Startled, she stepped wrong and felt herself falling backwards, arms flailing--

Only to be caught in a strong, firm hold.

She opened her eyes and promptly closed her mouth, still full of quiche. Maybe it was the caffeine jolting her zombified body or maybe it was the smell of his cologne--earthy and woody, and definitely expensive. Whatever it was, she took one look at his face and visa be damned, she signed up for a husband and dammit, was she going to try to bag  _ this _ pensive bison--

“Rey Niima, I take it?”

Even his  _ voice _ stripped her bare, pantyless and womb ready.

“Yes, that’s--that’s me,” she said, clearing her throat. Thank god she hadn’t said what she’d really meant:  _ let me have your babies _ .

He righted her on her feet and appraised her casually. “The geologist?”

“Well, it sounds quite dull when you say it like that. Really, I’m an exploration geologist, so I’m not trapped inside a lab day in and day--”

“REY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? GET OVER HERE!”

Maybe her entire life was just a kaleidoscope of ill-timed moments. Because one moment she stared into the face of what she thought was her future husband, grinning at her, and in the next, she realized how unnaturally silent the set had become. Everyone’s eyes were on them. Although Finn yelled for her to join him again, his eyes were trained directly on  _ him _ . Not just anyone, that much was obvious. That mountain commanded attention without a single word and at present, he was absolutely feral at the sight of Finn.

When she joined her producer Finn, he grabbed her arm and planted her in front of the camera.

“Who is that?” she asked, trying to peer over her shoulder.

Finn scoffed. “That’s what Satan wishes he was.”

“So he’s not a contestant?”

“Don’t let him hear you say that. That’s Kylo Ren, executive producer of  _ The Force _ . Whatever he says is law and if you dare break his precious rules . . . you may as well pre-order your coffin.”

Rey waited for a laugh. Some chuckle or sound to alleviate the seriousness of his tone. But it never came and she was forced to wink and smile while answering questions with previously scripted answers. From what she gathered, she was the token smart girl. Not a bombshell like the other female contestants or wealthy or borderline famous like most of the male contestants.

_ The Force _ was a simple reality TV dating show, one she had frequently ridiculed to anyone and everyone who would listen. Set in a mansion where four men and ten women resided, the men eliminated women week by week until four remained. The tables turned and the women eliminated the men until one remained, at which point he would eliminate them one by one until only his upcoming bride remained.

People in the states  _ loved _ the chaotic energy of the show. The only thing Rey loved was the opportunity to marry the male finalist, whoever it would be. She had graduated from college without friends, had worked without making friends or significant connections to any of her coworkers. Her hours were spent outside, not me, myself, and I, but igneous, sedimentary, and metamorphic. Absolutely nothing could have prepared herself for a meeting inside her boss’s office, where she explained that the lab could no longer afford to sponsor her visa.

Rey had three months left before her visa expired to solve the issue herself.  _ The Force _ took nine weeks to film and she was willing to do anything-- _ anything _ \--to end up with a ring on her finger.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_ The Force _ was made up of elaborate dates and competitions. Her producer Finn had prepped her on details like schedules, expectations, wardrobe preferences, as well as any disqualifying factors. What he had failed to mention was that filming primarily took place in the dead of night, the cold unforgiving in her skimpy bikini. Between filming she wore a large black parka, but somehow that made it worse once it came time to take it off.

The first competition was humiliating. 

Being the only brit in their cohort, Rey had the displeasure of wearing a sequined Union Jack bikini that was clearly a size too small. They had brutally waxed her bikini area backstage and shoved chicken cutlets into her suit. Finn had strapped her feet into tall wedges and pushed her out of the trailer, telling her, “Talent comes in all forms, so don’t worry about not doing the challenges the way you think they should be done. You’re my girl, Rey! I’m rooting for you!”

His encouragement evaporated from her chest at a closer look at the stage. A long silver pole, outfitted with a small disco ball at the very top, stood at its very center. All four of the male contestants lounged on couches in front of the stage, a table full of snacks and beers at their feet.

The first competition was pole dancing?

Rey joined the female contestants and tightened her parka around her skinny body. The cameras were now focused on the show’s host, retired actor Lando Calrissian, as he introduced the men to the rest of the world.

“You all may already know Dr. Poe Dameron, who took social media by storm last year when he single handedly delivered a baby on the subway--on his lunch break, no less! This doctor is thirty years old and already a dad to a gorgeous corgi named Beebee the Eighth. He enjoys a good cabernet sauvignon and hopes to find the perfect partner with whom to share a charcuterie board.

“Armitage Hux, a military man! He made headline news three years ago when he was rescued from enemy territory in Exegol after having been presumed dead for nearly a decade. At thirty-two years old, he is ready to settle down with the woman of his dreams. And who might that be? Perhaps someone who shares the same affinity for gardening and love for the Lord of the Rings.

“Now onto Cassian Andor, our silver fox of the group, he--”

“Hey, I’m only thirty-seven, pendejo!” a voice interrupted.

Lando laughed goodnaturedly and continued, “If you’re looking for someone with fire in his belly, look no further! Cassian is a personal friend of mine, a true activist for social change. You may have seen him at the frontlines of many protests, including what shook our nation last year with the Stormtrooper program, when--”

There was sudden movement to Rey’s right, movement that caused Lando to clear his throat and redirect his speech:

“He is co-founder of  _ The Resistance _ , a grassroots organization dedicated to fighting oppression for all marginalized identities in the state of Alderaan. He loves 805 on draft and eating every appetizer on the menu instead of a single entree. A true testament to the fact that all good and worthwhile things age like fine wine.”

It was the executive producer, Kylo Ren. He was on his feet, holding his ear piece deeper into his ear. Rey was taken aback by how enormous he looked, even from a distance. 

“And last but most certainly not least, is Matt Driver, a former radar technician who now owns the most successful social media conglomerate of the century. At twenty-eight, his resume is impressive and perhaps a bit intimidating, but he hopes to find the perfect woman to help expand his  _ social _ resume. Matt hopes to dedicate the next year to traveling the world and exploring environmental wonders. And maybe watching some Doctor Who along the way.”

Oh. Right.

“Well!” continued Lando, clasping his hands. “Now that we’ve met the men, let’s meet the lovely ladies of  _ The Force _ . They’ll be introducing themselves and then graciously showing us their skills on this pole right behind me.”

Matt Driver wore overly large glasses and a shy, close-lipped smile. His blonde hair was an unruly halo around his head.  _ Environmental wonders _ . Well, it looked like they had cast Rey as the resident nerd and Matt was her perfect counterpart. If she had any hope of remaining on the show past the expected lifetime of a token contestant, she was going to have to strategize her other assets.

So she waited. Tossed off her parka once the women were back on the cameras and watched each contestant try their hand at the pole. Many of them gave up trying to spin on the actual pole and instead danced seductively around it. One of the contestants managed to hoist herself up, only to tumble down and rush off the stage in embarrassment.

Rey hated how misogynistic the show was. Racist and ableist too. It turned her stomach to think of herself being associated with such problematic content, but at least she had no family to shame. No mom to disappoint. No father to lecture her. Whereas other contestants fought with their producers at having to exist without a phone for nine weeks, Rey gave away hers without a second thought.

When Lando called out her name--“geologist genius Rey Niima!”--she smiled nervously and blinked away the blinding spots from the lights. From this vantage point, she could see Kylo Ren easily. He stood beside the showrunner, Phasma, and had his arms crossed, scowling in her direction.

“I’m Rey. I’m an exploration geologist for Tatooine Enterprise. I was born just outside of London but haven’t been back since then. England sounds like a terrific spot for a honeymoon, yeah? Well, I love ramen and will watch any and all anime, short of High School DxD.” This earned a chuckle from most of the men.

Music would have helped. Some bouncy pop beat or rap or hip hop. Rey would have even killed for some Tchaikovsky, but according to Phasma  _ YOU CAN’T EDIT OUT MUSIC, YOU ABSOLUTE PRICK. _

In her moment to fail or impress, all she had was a silent, bland background that would only be edited well for audiences at home. She kicked off her wedges and tossed them off the stage, then ripped out her chicken cutlets. It was Poe who caught them and hollered, showing off his catch. That was motivation enough.

Rey had taken  _ one _ pole dancing class years ago in undergrad, but she did regularly take pilates and kickboxing. Gripping the pole in front of her, she hoisted her body onto it, climbed a bit, and let her torso relax. That should be decent enough form. 

She flourished her hand before her like  _ voila _ ! And quickly, before she lost her nerve, loosened the strings of her bikini--before it completely slid off her body, she caught the cups to her chest and blew the cameras a kiss. Cheeky enough to set her aside from the other contestants.

She slid down until her feet were steady on the stage, but her swimsuit was already in a dangerous, minimal coverage zone. Someone behind her draped a thick, button-down shirt across her shoulders. It was still warm with body heat, and dark, so she didn’t worry about displaying the color of her areolas. 

“Thank you,” she said, turning around to see--

Poe.

He was even more handsome and charming up close. His smile was infectious. Suddenly she was sixteen years old again, with butterflies in her belly and shy glances down at her toes.

“Anything for a geologist genius,” he purred.

“Camera B, close up on her face! DO NOT miss a second of this!” She recognized Phasma’s voice. “SOMEONE POINT THE FAN AT THEM.”

They had been instructed to never react to voices off screen. Rey had just not expected those voices to belong to a screaming Amazonian woman who could probably snap her neck with one hand. If they couldn’t edit out music, how would they edit out her screeches?

Poe leapt to action. He jumped off the stage and offered Rey a hand. Now that her wedges were lost to the night, she was grateful for the help climbing down the rough wooden steps. As she moved to join the other women, Poe pulled her toward his couch and sat her beside him.

Rey looked around, wondering if this was allowed.

“Make yourself comfortable Rey,” he told her, pouring her a flute of champagne. “It’s safe to say I’ve had enough of these performances now that we’ve properly met.”

There was a loud crash behind them. Rey flinched but Poe didn’t so much as bat an eyelash. Lando continued hosting the remaining segment of filming, all the while Rey watched the reflection off the cameraman’s monitor. It had been Kylo Ren who had stormed off, only to return to the set, to pace back and forth like a madman.

Rey was so focused on his movements she almost didn’t notice Poe lean closer, his hand on her knee. It wasn’t until his breath was on her ear that she heard him say, “What room are you staying in?”

Automatically, she answered, “Second floor of the east wing, room six,” before she realized what she’d done.

Looking at Kylo Ren’s reflection on the monitor, Rey made the quick decision that perhaps, maybe, she shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. So she smiled at Poe and drank her champagne like she’d already won the competition.

Which she didn’t.

In the end, coyness only went so far. It was a leggy model she’d seen on the cover of  _ Sports Illustrated _ that won with actual physical flair, spinning from that pole like a stripper turned Olympic champ. When finished, she’d bowed deeply, breasts straining out of her swimsuit. 

“I can’t believe they let Bazine back this season, after what happened last year,” another contestant muttered to Rey, glaring openly at the competition winner. “ _ And _ what happened last month in Hawaii. God, she has some nerve.”

Rey clutched Poe’s shirt tighter around her body as they made their way back into the mansion. “What happened in Hawaii? I’m Rey, by the way.”

“Paige. Anyway, it took a few days for the entire story to come out, but Bazine basically killed her boyfriend and tried to cover it up. You know the head honcho, Kylo Ren? That was her boyfriend. She threw him overboard and docked the yacht without reporting him missing or lost at sea or  _ anything _ .”

Rey raised her eyebrows. Not at Paige, but at the sight that welcomed them in the mansion foyer.

“No fucking way,” mumbled Paige.

Every female contestant stood frozen at the sight of magazine covers, all of them featuring Bazine Netal, torn and taped to the walls. In a macabre display of public accusation, the word GOLD DIGGER was scratched across her face. Dozens of times over and over, Rey read the same word, the mansion silent as they waited for the first reaction.

The door shut behind the final person entering the mansion. Rey didn’t dare look back. Only stared at a magazine cover where Bazine wore glasses and had a pen in her mouth, its title  _ Who cares about double Ds when you have double Bs--brains AND beauty? _

“What the--who the  _ fuck _ ,” yelled Bazine, storming through the crowd carrying her victory dildo, its tip sprouting a flag with  _ The Force _ stamped on it. “Who in the fuck would do this shit? Was it you, Paige? I bet you got your little sister to do your dirty work, didn’t you, you three time losing has-been.”

Bazine tore several sheets of magazine off the walls. One of the other contestants reached out to her, grabbing her shoulder, but was promptly shoved back.

“I’m already rich!” declared Bazine. “Why the fuck would I be a gold digger? I have a net worth of seven million. Tell me, who was it?”

Rey watched in horror as Paige laughed, loudly and intentionally. “It should have said  _ Killer _ , Bazine,” called Paige. “You know? After what you did.”

With a quick hair toss, Bazine smoothed out her bikini and strode past the foyer into the mansion, heading to their designated suites.While Rey shared a suite with Kaydel Connix, she didn’t envy Bazine’s suitemate for the night they were going to experience. Not that any of it made sense. The entire cohort had been outside filming their very public humiliations, too busy for such a stunt.

She was still thinking about the situation when there came a knock on the suite doors. Kaydel had long since gone to sleep, claiming that strutting about as sexily as she had was tiring on the soul. The mansion exercised strict security measures, so she wasn’t too worried about opening the doors and--

“Hello Rey.”

She slammed the door shut.

No.

There was no way.

  
  



End file.
